


An Incorrect Hypothesis

by kforsyth716



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Afghanistan, Cairo Day 2020, Gen, Prompt: This is going to hurt, Time jump from Sandbox to season 3, add-on to 3x14, fluff then sadness, sandbox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kforsyth716/pseuds/kforsyth716
Summary: "Mac knows this is a mistake, okay? He knows he should have told Dalton to get his dumb ass back on the plane and enjoy all of Texas’s many wonders (of which Dalton has waxed poetic about nonstop for 64 days)."A look into Mac's thoughts when Jack signs up for another tour in the Sandbox and then a (much briefer) look into his thoughts when Jack announces he's leaving at the beginning of 3x14.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 31





	An Incorrect Hypothesis

**Author's Note:**

> Fulfilled for the Cairo Day 2020 prompt: This is going to hurt.  
> This definitely hurt to write.

**Afghanistan**

Mac knows this is a mistake, okay? He knows he should have told Dalton to get his dumb ass back on the plane and enjoy all of Texas’s many wonders (of which Dalton has waxed poetic about nonstop for 64 days).

But when the older man slides into the driver’s seat of the HUM-V, Mac can’t do much of anything except stare and listen to the thunder of his heartbeat between his ears.

Worst of all, when Dalton shoots him a cocky grin and basically admits he signed up for another fucking tour in fucking Afghanistan to make sure Mac (nobody, annoying Angus MacGyver) made it home safe, Mac just sticks his fist out like an idiot and accepts the... gift? Sacrifice? Absolute idiocy?

Because yeah, Dalton might be good at what he does. He’s obviously received more training that what’s necessary to act as an EOD Overwatch and he’s saved Mac’s life on more than one occasion.

But “good” doesn’t mean safe. Not when the slightest mistake can end in bloody sand and a body bag. Not when Peña, the best of the best, ended up roasted and charred, cooked the same way Bozer likes his hot dogs and-.

Nope, not going there.

Mac watches Dalton out of the corner of his eye as the other man hums and taps the steering wheel like they’re driving up the coast of California instead of down a nonexistent road in war-torn Afghanistan. Like he didn’t just give up his best chance at survival for a scrawny kid he met a little over two months ago.

In Mac’s defense, he had done his best to keep Dalton at arm’s length (honestly, the fist fight should have prevented this whole mess).

Because Mac knows how this ends.

Dalton will stick out his calloused hand for a friendly, but firm handshake. Mac will reciprocate and offer what’s supposed to be a grateful nod but will probably devolve into tears and stuttering breaths instead.

Despite his dad’s best attempts, Mac never really learned to control his tears when saying goodbye. He didn’t cry when one of the football players at his high school intentionally ran over Archimedes to get back at Mac for daring to exist, but he bawled like a baby after hugging Bozer goodbye at the airport on the day he left for MIT.

The point is Mac knows how this ends. They go their separate ways, either because of a bomb or a bullet or because Jack belongs in Texas and Mac... Mac doesn’t belong quite anywhere. But he definitely won’t fit in with Dalton’s family-oriented life with dozens of cousins, friends-turned-family, and decades’ worth of stories staged on the same plot of land with the same recurring set of characters.

The uneven ground launches the HUM-V over a particularly rough bump. Mac snatches the side of the door for stability while Dalton whoops like they’re zipping down a rollercoaster instead of driving through a war zone.

“You okay over there, hoss? You’re lookin’ a little pale.”

Mac blinks, suddenly aware of Dalton’s intense gaze picking apart his expression.

“Yeah, I’m... I’m fine.”

Dalton snorts and turns his attention back to the road.

“Uh-huh, sure you are, kid.” Then, he snaps his fingers and the soft crack lights up his whole face with a grin brighter than a lightning bolt. “I know just what you need! My man Willy Nelson can fix just about anything, including that sourpuss expression of yours.”

Mac’s nose crinkles.

“What? I-I don’t… I don’t have a... a “sourpuss” anything.”

But Jack’s already moved on from him, eyes roaming the sand for any hint of trouble while his chapped lips launch into an off-pitch warble.

“Mr. Record Man...”

Mac knows this is a mistake, okay? He knows how this, their partnership and the budding friendship buzzing underneath it, will end.

Or at least he thought he did.

Right up until Dalton climbed into the HUM-V on day 65 with a wild grin and usual motor mouth spinning away, he had trusted his brain’s prediction to keep him from getting attached the same way he trusted chemistry to defuse a bomb.

Then again, he’s always been much better at science than people. He’ll discern rules and habits (Dad doesn’t yell as much when Mac gets good grades). But they always break their own pattern (Mac had straight A’s right up until after the year his dad drove away and never came back) and leave him with nothing but a pile of useless data and an incorrect hypothesis.

He jolts back to attention when Dalton hits a note with an ungodly screech.

“Jack!” Mac yells, doubled over with his hands clapped over his ears.

“Yes, Mac?”

The impish smile and amusement crinkling to corner of Jack’s eyes derails Mac’s attempt at a glare. Instead, he sighs and gives up fighting back his own grin.

“If you keep singing like that, I’m going to knock you out and hide your body on the next transport out of the country.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“Okay then, you asked for it...” Jack puffs up his chest with a dramatic inhale before belting out, “It’s a lonely song about a lonely man like me...”

Mac can’t hear the next screechy note over the sound of his own laughter.

**3x14**

“To say goodbye to a good friend.”

The words punch Mac so much harder than the sight of Jack climbing into the driver’s seat of that HUM-V all those years ago.

Because Mac had known. He had known how this, their indomitable, sturdy friendship, would end, right from day 65. He had just tricked himself into believing otherwise.

He had discerned a rule based on data (Jack will be there when everybody else leaves, he’ll be there when Mac’s bleeding on the ground, when the air’s thick with laughter and banter after a job well-done, when Mac’s girlfriend of two years turns out to be a traitor-not-traitor, when Mac spends one of their rare days off slumped over on the couch with more regret than oxygen in his lungs, when his dad reveals himself as the puppet master of Mac’s whole life).

And now, Jack was breaking that rule. 

Mac had known this was a mistake, okay? He had known it was a massive, life-changing mistake.

And then he had learned it wasn’t, learned Jack would be there the same way he learned the ins and outs of covert intelligence and the lyrics to most of Willy Nelson’s songs. He had learned that first fist-bump and all the ones afterwards were the best decision he ever made.

Now, all Mac knows is that this is going to hurt. 


End file.
